


Bigger than Me (i used to be an anchor)

by nyagosstar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fix-It, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Praise Kink, Shiro has a new arm, Team as Family, because I can't stand the one Allura gives him, driving school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 05:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20285806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/pseuds/nyagosstar
Summary: Somehow, between getting kicked out of the Garrison and saving the universe, Keith never got around to getting his driver's license. Now he's got six weeks of driving school in his future and he's not pleased.





	Bigger than Me (i used to be an anchor)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sainnis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/gifts).

> Written for and based on a prompt given to me by @sainnis based on a thread she saw on Twitter about Keith getting pulled over for driving without a license. When I started writing this, I anticipated something much shorter and a little sillier. Instead, I ended up full of feelings and sixteen pages deep into a mediation on what it means to live a life after saving the universe.

**Before**

Shiro loved being home. He loved the weight of earth’s gravity pulling at his bones, the allergies of early spring plaguing his waking hours. He loved the first bite into a crisp apple. The garrison’s mac and cheese. The sun setting over the canyon ridge.

With the defeat of the Galra, Earth had a chance to regroup and restructure, including rebuilding the cell phone networks. Shiro loved being able to text the various members of his former and current teams, or calling them for a quick chat without having to worry about the time and distance separating them. He loved posting videos of Ad-mew-al Whiskers and stolen images of Keith sleeping in his bed.

There was the house he and Keith shared with the screened porch that was unusable ninety percent of the year, and the professional grade kitchen neither of them were any good at using. They had room for guests, and Kosmo, and a neighbor down the road who didn’t mind driving by when they had to be off planet.

Keith’s face popped up on his phone and Shiro grinned. “I told you to make a list,” he said, not bothering to keep the smugness from his voice. “It was more than three things, you need a list.”

Keith grunted. “I didn’t need a list. What I need, apparently, is someone to pick me up from the police station.”

What? “What?” He frowned. “Did you start another fight at the grocery store. They’re going to ban you if you keep arguing with them about charging for bags.”

“Yeah, no. Apparently,” he huffed out an irritated breath. “I can save the universe and pilot both a sentient metal cat and a giant robot weapon, but the state of Nevada doesn’t think that qualifies me to drive a car.”

From the background of Keith’s call, a tired, slightly exasperated voice piped up. “You still have to have a driver’s license, sir.”

“You don’t have a driver’s license?”

“Yeah, sure. In between living on my own in the desert for a year after you disappeared and then getting chucked to the other end of the galaxy to fight in someone else’s war I just hopped on down to the DMV. Can you please just come get me?”

“I’m calling Lance.”

“Shiro, don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare. Shiro--”

He hung up on Keith, still cackling. 

*

“Well, well, well.”

Keith covered his whole face with his arms. “Don’t.”

Lance’s phone made the camera sound. Lance only ever turned on the sound when he wanted people to know he was taking pictures. “Come on. Don’t be like that.” He flipped around and help the phone up. “Jail selfie!”

“Why are you here?” He knew why. Shiro. The traitor.

Lance continued snapping pics. “I’m here to rescue you.” He turned around and leaned on the bars, his long arms flopping through to brush against Keith’s hair. 

He jerked back and batted at Lance’s hand. “Why are you here?”

“To document the fall of our great leader. Oh, the horror, oh, the betrayal. Do you think they’ll want you to refund them the money for the parade?”

It had been an embarrassing end to an exhausting battle. Keith just wanted to come back to Earth and collapse into a bed, any bed, as long as Shiro was also in it. Instead, there had been a parade, with a float, and confetti. With Hunk worrying about the effect of the brightly colored paper in the local wildlife, Allura asking about the cultural significance of hurling candy at children, and Shiro using the cover of the other paladins to casually grope at his ass in public, Keith still felt like the city should have paid him. Not for that last bit. That was a privilege and an honor. Just the parade.

“No, why are _you_ here?” He’d called Shiro. Shiro was supposed to be the person to witness his humiliation. It was basically a routine at this point in their lives. 

“Shiro’s got that news drone following him. He figured it might be best if the whole world didn’t find out about this.” He flicked one of the metal bars. “Although, I did see a local news van out front, so if you want to wait around,” he shrugged, a grin spread wide across his face. 

He did not. It smelled weird, and the officer kept walking through to give Keith assessing looks, like he was just waiting for Keith to lose his temper. Again.

“What are you even in jail for? They don’t arrest you for driving without a license do they?”

Keith leaned forward and let his hand dangle between his knees. When he spoke, it was directed at the floor. “I started a fight with the cop.”

“You what?” Lance gasped, shocked and pleased at the same time. “Please, please tell me you haven’t been watching documentaries with Pidge again.”

Keith jerked his chin up. “Unrestricted power in the hands of police leads to marginalized people in jeopardy.”

“Okay, man.” The slow shake of Lance’s head could not have been more mocking. “I’m just saying that if you look at it in the right way, you’re kind of like an intergalactic space cop.”

All the fight went out of him. “Can we please go?”

Lance motioned for the guard. “You can release our freedom fighter to my custody, officer. I promise to drive him home.” He pulled out his wallet and flashed his license. “I’m all official and everything.” In the photo, his wide grin took up most of the picture, and yet somehow he managed to sneak in finger guns as well.

The officer unlocked the cell. “You know, I think I arrested you once before. You would have been maybe fifteen? Sixteen.”

“Oh, ho!” Lance crowed, draping an arm around Keith’s shoulders and pulling him toward the desk. “This gets better and better. At this rate, you won’t need to get me anything for my birthday this year.”

“I wasn’t going to get you anything, anyway,” he lied out of spite and accepted his collection of belongings, along with a sheet of instructions about next steps.

*

“Driving jail.” Keith thrust the paper into Shiro’s hands and threw himself down on their couch. The drive back from the station and the short visit with Lance had clearly riled him up. “This is humiliating.”

Shiro scanned the paper. Apparently Keith wasn’t the only person to get caught without a license. The procedure looked pretty straight forward. “It’s driving school, not driving jail. Six weeks and they drop the charges. Seems like a good compromise.” Better than Keith ending up on the news.

Keith lurched upright. “Compromise? Are you kidding me?” He tugged at his hair. It was starting to get long. He’d be able to put it up soon. Which meant that soon Shiro would be able to run his hands through it. He’d be able to tug it out of the tie and feel the weight, the heat where it had been bound close to the nape of Keith’s neck. 

Shiro sat next to him and tugged at him until Keith relented and relaxed and rested against his chest. He loved the way Keith fit in his arms. “Do you want me to fix it for you, baby?” he whispered at the shell of Keith’s ear. 

He would. He could. They’d learned pretty quickly on their final return to earth, victorious and free, that they all had a measure of fame and the unfair advantage that came with it, Shiro more than the rest. He’d been able to ease the way for any number of little inconveniences. 

Keith shuddered, delicately. “No. It’s fine.” He turned to tuck his face against Shiros’ neck. “It just makes me feel,” he paused, “I feel like a kid.”

Shiro held him for a minute before he tried to speak, so he could get himself under control. There was so much there, so much layered under those simple words. “I love you,” he said instead of all the reassurances that Keith wouldn’t have believed. 

Against Shiro’s ribs, Keith’s fingers clutched at him. “I love you, too,” he whispered. 

**Week One**

“You can’t drive yourself to driving school,” Keith mocked under his breath as he got out of the car and crossed the scorching parking lot toward the learning center. He glanced over his shoulder. Shiro gave him a cheery wave and Keith very determinedly did not chuck a rock back at the window. “I should have shown up in Black.” The parking lot was far too small. He would have had to park on the roof, and the building didn’t look like it would hold up to her bulk.

He pushed through the door into the over air conditioned waiting room. It smelled like industrial cleaner, paper copies, and markers. 

“Did your dad cry, too?”

Keith jumped, spinning to find a lanky teen sprawling across two chairs. “What?”

“Your dad,” they pointed to Shiro, still sitting in the parking lot, grinning like a loon. He did that a lot since they got back to earth and Keith could not find it in himself to be annoyed. It balanced out the nights when they both couldn’t sleep for the nightmares, or the lightning storms when Shiro clung to him and begged Keith to tell him he was real. 

None of that answered the kid’s question. “How old do you think I am?” He tried to imagine Shiro through a stranger’s perspective and found it impossible. “How old do you think _he_ is?”

The kid shrugged. “I don’t know. Forty?”

Keith spun, staring hard at Shiro. In the car, Shiro caught him and waved again, then gave him a thumbs up. It had to be the hair. Right? Or maybe just the really, really strong dad vibes Shiro gave off. “He’s not my dad.”

“Whatever.” The kid turned back to their phone.

With nothing else to do, Keith threw himself down onto one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and slouched down until he could rest his head against the sharp lip of the backrest. The ceiling was boring white, with a thick layer of dust surrounding the air vents. He wanted to go home.

“Good morning, gentlemen!”

Keith jerked up at the greeting to find an older man striding toward them with a wide grin. 

“Yeah, not a gentleman, thanks,” the kid said, not looking up from their phone. 

“Right, well. Welcome.” He didn’t seem particularly phased and instead swept his arm toward the long hallway. “If you’ll follow me, we have a lot of material to get through and not a lot of time.”

Keith wasn’t sure what kind of scale Mr. Wels was used to measuring time, but Keith had been stranded on a space whale for two years drifting through the quantum abyss and it had been less excruciating than the four hours he spent in the freezing cold classroom. 

The kid, Salter, put away their phone and took diligent notes the first two hours. Keith sat next to them and very quietly wanted to die. At their first and only break halfway through hell, Keith bolted for the parking lot where he could stand in the sun and thaw. He’d been warmer on ice planets. He’d been warmer in the dead emptiness of space. 

“Oh,” Salter paused just outside the door and looked over Keith. “I thought you’d be smoking.”

Keith shook his head. “Nope. Just cold.” Salter was just fifteen, as he’d learned during their excruciating ‘get to know you’ portion of the class. The activities might have gone well in a larger setting, but with just three people it had fizzled pretty quickly. “You shouldn’t smoke.”

“You should mind your own business.”

Keith shrugged and weighed the benefits of stretching out on the sidewalk and letting the heat soak in from the ground up. “That’s fair.” He hadn’t wanted anyone tell him what to do at fifteen. Except maybe Shiro. And even then there was a fair chance he’d do whatever he wanted to see if there was a limit to Shiro’s patience.

There never had been.

Keith was still trying to find it. 

**Week Two**

Their lesson started with a quiz. 

Keith wanted to chuck his tablet out of the window, storm out of the classroom, and never return. But he thought of Shiro’s quiet disappointment, followed by his vocal support of Keith’s continued fuck-ups. There was no other choice but to take the fucking quiz.

It automatically graded itself once Keith finished the last question and click on the done button. One hundred percent.

“What the fuck,” Salter whispered. “You didn’t even take notes.” They had a respectable eight-five.

“Just because I don’t like school doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.” It also helped that his knowledge was hands on, practical. Salter had never been behind the wheel. Had probably never stolen a car. Keith had stolen his first when he was thirteen. 

Mr. Wels went over the results with excruciating precision, even when it was clear both of his students understood the answer. It was well into their second hour before they started on new material. Again Salter spent the day taking notes and Keith recited planets he’d visited.

“Of course you’d know that, wouldn’t you Keith?”

“Yeah.” It was the sixth time Mr. Wels made a similar comment. He may have not known who Keith was during their first class, but it was clear he’d done a little homework, or maybe read an article, or seen something on the news. Even when they weren’t actively saving the world or giving interviews, all of the paladins still showed up in the press. 

During their break Salter followed him outside and they crouched together in the thin line of shade thrown by the roof. “Why’s he keep doing that? Is it cause you’re old?”

Age tended to lose a bit of meaning when a person dealt with missing years and quantum abysses, but at that moment, Keith felt like he was a million. Older than the stars, older than the universe itself. “He’s just being an ass. It’s cause I got in trouble and he thinks it’s funny but doesn’t want to come out and say it.” He fixed Salter with a serious look. “Life lesson number one: most people are assholes when given the opportunity.”

Instead of writing it down like the notes from the class, Salter shook their head. “Nah. I think most people are good if you give them the chance. It’s just that the assholes stick out.”

It sounded like something Shiro would say, but with more swearing. “Don’t ever work with the public.” Don’t ever go to war.

**Week Three**

“I don’t want to go,” Keith whined into the back of Shiro’s neck. 

Shiro didn’t blame him. It was warm and comfortable in their bed. Atlas was a soothing background rumble of contentment in his thoughts. They’d been apart for five days as Shiro handled a diplomatic summit on the other side of the galaxy. Alll he wanted was to spend the day in bed with Keith. But.

“Lance and Allura are coming over tonight.” Shiro leaned back into Keith, brought his hand up to kiss his fingers. 

There was a hitch in Keith’s breathing that was entirely satisfying. “Okay?” 

“You don’t really want me to tell Lance you washed out of driving school by the second week, do you?” A second later Shiro’s world flipped and he was flat on his back with Keith looming over him. He never forgot how strong Keith was, but he did enjoy provoking him into action every once in a while. 

“That,” Keith leaned down to growl in his ear, “is playing dirty, Admiral.”

Keith’s weight was solid and welcome. He smiled, breathed in the scent of him. “I have to work with what I have.”

“Mmm, tell me more about your tactical positioning,” Keith nipped at his ear, and again at his throat. He stroked his hand over Shiro’s shoulder, down his chest to the sensitive skin at his hip.

Shiro shivered. “There are better things I can do with my mouth.” He nudged at Keith until their faces were aligned, until the deep violet of Keith’s eyes filled his vision. Until the room fell away and there was nothing else. He kissed him. 

Couldn’t have done anything else. 

Keith’s lips were soft, his mouth warm, welcoming. He sucked Shiro’s tongue into his mouth as he stroked Shiro’s thigh. Everywhere he touched, Shiro’s body lit up. He’d thought it would fade, he’d thought the intensity would diminish after he got used to having a body again, but it had been close to a year and all it took was a whisper from Keith to roll exquisite electricity through his body.

“Keith,” he said, breath caught, eyes closed.

After a moment, Keith broke away, but kept his hands on Shiro. “What do you want? Do you want to be good for me? Do you want to be my good boy?”

A gasp escaped him and any thought his body had about a slow awakening toward arousal was burned away. He’d never been so hard. “Please.”

Keith kissed him, slow, smooth. “There he is,” he said between the hot press of his lips to Shiro’s throat. “Let me take care of you.” He shifted, until he was half resting on the right side of Shiro’s body, his thigh shoved tight and high between Shiro’s legs. 

He skimmed his fingers down Shiro’s chest, over the muscles of his stomach. They jumped at his touch. The calluses on his fingers were rough against the sensitive skin of his cock as he smoothed his hand down the length.

“Does that feel good?”

Shiro couldn't speak. He nodded.

“Look at you. So pretty. Such a good boy. You’re so good for letting me take care of you.” 

Every word rippled through Shiro like the kindest lightning. Every stroke of his hand pulled pleasure from Shiro’s core. He tried to reach out, to touch Keith and bring him the same pleasure only to have his hands batted away. 

Keith dipped his face into the hollow beside Shiro’s ear. “Stay still. Can you do that for me? I want to concentrate on you.” His warm breath spread shivers through every plane of Shiro’s existence.

He stroked Shiro, slick and steady and perfect. Against Shiro’s throat, he whispered and endless hum of encouragements all tied and tumbled together until Shiro lost all sense of them. All there was, the only focus in the universe was the firm grip of Keith’s hand and the pleasure he wrung from Shiro’s willing body.

“You’re perfect,” Keith breathed into Shiro’s ear and that was all it took. The warm, rumbling fire of desire and release flowing through him, tucked safely in Keith’s arms to keep him from spinning too far. 

When he could breathe, when he could open his eyes, he kissed Keith. “I’m still driving you to class.

**Week Four**

“It’s the week you’ve all been waiting for,” Mr. Wels said with a significant amount of unwarranted enthusiasm since there was nothing Keith was looking forward to, expect for the whole ordeal to be done. “We’re going to be doing some driving.”

Salter perked up. “Really?”

“Well, simulated driving.” Instead of following him to their regular classroom, Mr. Wels led them to a room at the back of the center with a simulator that had seen better days twenty years ago. “We’ll get you some safe experience before you have to go out on the road.” 

“Is it graded?” Salter asked, trying to sound bored but their nerves leaked through. 

“No, today is practice, so no need to worry. This old girl has seen lots of crashes.” Mr. Wels patted the side of the machine and Keith thawed just a little toward him. Maybe the simulator didn’t offer Mr. Wels a psychic connection, but Keith knew what it was like to have a bond with a piece of machinery.

It took ten minutes of fumbling with cables and codes to connect the simulator to the screen at the back of the room so Mr. Wels could show them the proper way to drive through the first course. He’d chosen a simple route through an idyllic neighborhood with no pedestrians, distractions, or interest. 

Keith was happy to let Salter take the first pass through.

It was a little nostalgic, actually. Standing at the back of a simulator, watching someone try something new. Mr. Wels didn’t give much in the way of feedback as Salter crawled through the development and hopped the car up on the curb during a turn. It wasn’t bad for a first run, and it wasn’t that Salter was being careless, they didn’t didn’t know how to handle the sim. Probably’d do better in a real car.

Keith edged nearer to the opening. “Ease off on the break, and try not to jerk the wheel. Light touches.”

Salter shot a glance over their shoulder. “I’m doing it.”

“All right,” Keith held up his hands and backed off. He let Salter run through stop signs, tear up the carefully landscaped stone yards, and crunch the front of the car into the wall of the final parking space. 

They threw themselves out of the simulator. “That’s bullshit. It can’t really be that hard.”

Mr. Wels had a patient smile that was hardly patronizing at all. “It was a good first try. I’ll admit she’s a touch sensitive, but it’s still good practice. Keith, would you like to have a go?”

It was nothing like running simulations of flight formations, or dodging through asteroid fields, but it was kind of nice to be behind the wheel of something, of being in complete control. He tore up the gears, flaunted the road rules, and raced through the complex trying to beat a time he’d set for himself. He finished by spinning the car into the parking space, back bumper a millimeter from the wall.

“That wasn’t exactly the purpose of the simulation, Keith,” Mr Wels said as Keith pushed himself from the simulator, feeling a little ridiculous at the adrenaline running through him from a beginners driving course. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been great at following course objectives.”

Salter had their arms crossed over their chest. “Why are you even in this class?”

Mr. Wels gently cleared his throat. “Perhaps it’s best you don’t set Keith as a role model, and instead make sure that you follow all of the local and state laws, no matter how impressive your day job is.”

“Whatever, I want to go again,” Salter said, shoving into the simulator.

Keith started plotting.

*

“When you said you needed my help for a good cause, I was thinking maybe a bake sale, or taking the lions out. Breaking and entering seems like a bad idea. Aren’t you already in trouble with the police?” Hunk loomed at Keith’s shoulder, his hands twisting around themselves as Keith picked the lock to the community center.

Keith looked over his shoulder, but the lot was as quiet as it had been when they arrived. “It _is_ for a good cause. They’ll appreciate it.” The electronic lock pinged and disengaged. “We’re good.” He pushed the door open and led the way through the dark to the simulator room. “You’ll like this, I promise.” He guessed he could have asked for access to the simulator and offered to fix it through proper channels. He could have arranged for them to get a new one, but breaking in and upgrading it seemed like more fun.

“Are you sure? Because so far, there is nothing about this that I like.”

It was impossible to contain his grin as he pushed into the community center. “Come on.” He knocked Hunk’s arm with his elbow and led the way.

“Oh, my, god,” Hunk ran toward the simulator as soon as Keith hit the lights. “Is that,” he turned to Keith then back to the machine. “It is, isn’t it? It’s a model 52E simulator. I didn’t think I’d ever seen one outside of a museum. Where did they get this?” He circled the simulator, hands darting out at odd intervals, like he wanted to stroke the cold metal. 

“Probably from the company when they were first available. Think you can work an upgrade?”

Hunk dove in immediately, narrating about the importance of maintaining the integrity of the original machine, while simultaneously improving performance. Keith went to sit in a corner of the room and switched between trading cat pictures with Krolia and playing a word game against Coran .

At twenty to ten, Keith lifted his face from his screen. “You’ve got twenty minutes to wrap up. I told Shiro I wouldn’t be late.

Hunk was shoved under the simulator with dozens of wires spilling out around him like tentacles. “What about half an hour? We can stop at my place on the way back to yours and I’ll bring cake. Cake always makes up for being late.”

Keith texted Shiro to let him know he wouldn’t be home before eleven.

**Week Five**

Mr. Wels was waiting when Keith pushed through the door to the community center. 

“What? I’m not late.”

“He’s in a mood,” Salter said from their slouch against the window.

“It seems we’ve had a mysterious upgrade to our simulator.” He didn’t sound nearly as pleased as Keith was expecting. If someone came in and upgraded his old tech with something that worked better, he’d be thrilled. Or, well. No, if someone messed with Black because they thought she could be better he’d probably murder them.

“Yeah, but who breaks into a place and fixes stuff. That’s the worst criminal ever.” Salter tucked away their phone. 

Mr. Wel’s attention had not wavered from Keith at all. “Yes. It is curious, isn’t it, Keith? Who _would_ do such a thing?”

Keith shrugged. “Probably someone who wanted to help. And someone who was very respectful of the equipment.”

After a long moment, Mr. Wels spun on his heel and stalked toward the simulation room. 

“What’d you do that for?” Salter hissed at Keith’s elbow. “He’s never going to pass you now.”

“It wasn’t me. I can’t fix machines.”

Salter believed him about as much as Mr. Wels, which meant it was kind of a miserable day. Despite the fact that the simulator was working like new, better than new, despite the fact that Salter had nearly perfect scores because of the easier handling, despite the fact that Keith didn’t go off course once, the tension in the air didn’t ease at all.

“You’re not above the law, just because of who you are,” Mr. Wels hissed at him when the day came to a close. Slater paused at the door and turned to watch their confrontation.

“I never said I was. I think sitting through this class is proof that I don’t think so.”

But Mr. Wels wasn’t impressed. “I don’t think that’s the case at all. Every action you’ve shown so far leads me to believe that you think you’re above this. Above us. You look at my work, you look at this center and think that we’re silly. A waste of time. But this is exactly the kind of thing you fought to protect. And if you can’t see the value in it, then I don’t want to see you here next week.” He brushed past Keith, but had the decency not to slam the door behind him.

“What was that?”

Keith sighed. He’d managed diplomatic incidents better. “That was me being an ass. I know better.” He did. He knew better now where the edges were on people, how far he could push them before things fell apart. Two years watching the past and future collide on the chance, on the hope they were on the right path had taught him patience. He _did_ know better. 

Salter had their phone out. “What did he mean? Are you famous?”

“I think I see your dad waiting,” Keith said, instead of answering. Shiro was in the parking lot, too. But there was no way Keith was heading out there until he fixed what he’d done. “I’ll see you next week. You did really well in the simulator today. You’re going to do great on the road.”

Slater glanced at him one more time and then stalked out toward the parking lot, still typing away at their phone. Keith figured that their last class was going to be weird.

When he was alone, he fired off a quick text to Shiro to let him know he’d be delayed, then sucked in a deep breath. 

“Come in,” Mr. Wels called when Keith knocked on his door. He pushed his way inside.

“I’d like to apologize.”

“Apology accepted. I’ll see you next week.” Mr. Wels wouldn’t look at him, kept his focus firm on the panel in front of him. It was like every bad meeting with his foster parents before he joined the Garrison. It was like every bad review when his temper broke as a cadet. He was in the wrong, his stomach twisted in a pit of shame and humiliation and they wouldn’t let him try to make it better. What was the point of anger if you couldn’t make things better?

“Mr. Wels,”

“I knew your father.”

Keith didn’t stumble back, he didn’t sink into a chair. He didn’t move, even though it felt like Mr. Wels had rammed his whole desk into Keith’s stomach. 

“He was the liaison from the fire department. He used to come to my classes to talk about road safety. Sometimes, after a class, we’d chat for a few minutes and all he ever wanted to talk about was you. How smart, how driven, how clever you were.” He finally looked up from his panel and Keith discovered that there was no universe in which he wanted to hear Mr. Wels’ next words. 

He turned and fled from the room. 

**Week Six**

“You’re the black freaking paladin.”

Salter was ready for him when Keith walked through the doors of the center. Their arms were crossed, and they were giving Lance’s offended face a run for most effective. 

“Yeah.” What else was there to say?

“The black paladin. The leader of Voltron. You saved the universe.”

At least Keith had some familiarity in dealing with similar situations. “Not by myself. It took a lot of work, and a lot of help. Atlas, the Blade of Marmora, hundreds of civilizations out there willing to put themselves on the line. Even the Garrison.” Though he had feelings about the organization, and had been the most vocal proponent of making sure there was no official affiliation between Voltron and Atlas with the Garrison. They sat out most of the fighting, and actively tried to sabotage efforts against the Galra. Keith wasn’t one to let that sort of thing go.

“I told my friends you were in my class, but they didn’t believe me. They said there was no way you’d go through driver’s training. You already fly better than anyone on earth.”

Mr. Wels entered the reception area and Keith did his best not to make any eye contact. “I’m a good pilot, but I’m bound by the same laws that serve the rest of us. I didn’t really have much of a chance to do this kind of thing before I ended up halfway across the galaxy.” He hadn’t known if he’d ever get home. Part of him hadn’t really cared if he’d ever managed. As long as Shiro was with him, it didn’t matter where he ended up.

He’d been wrong. It mattered very much. Because Shiro was so happy back on Earth. He was so light, practically beaming all the time. And Keith would go to any lengths to make sure that Shiro got to hold on to that kind of happiness. Even living in the desert, where his lungs filled with dust, and the lightning storms haunted their dreams, and he was caught, every once in a while, by the ghosts of his past. 

It was worth it. 

“Come along,” Mr Wels said with a forced lightness. “We’ve still got one more class to go.”

Keith kept his head down for four hours. He took notes that he would never look at again. He dutifully finished his quiz, and he ran a sedate and safe course through the simulator. All the while avoiding Mr. Wels’ eyes and Salter’s hovering interest.

Four hours felt like four years, but it did, eventually, end. Mr. Wels handed them each a real paper certificate and shook their hands. 

“Congratulations. You’ve passed the course and can now test for your license.”

Keith muttered his thanks and headed for the door.

“Mr. Kogane.”

He’d really, really hoped that he would be able to leave without incident. He turned. “I’m sorry. Really. It was a dumb thing to do. I should have just asked. I’m sorry.” The words stuck, even though he’d practiced them in the shower almost every morning that week.

“No, please. I am the one who’s sorry. I realized after you left that perhaps you thought I might have some scathing commentary about what your father must think of you now.” The words burned through him and he couldn’t breathe. “But what I really wanted to say is that he was right. He was right to be proud. I may not have liked what you did, but I think the spirit was there. The goodness. That was all I wanted to say.”

When he could talk, when he could move without feeling like shattering, Keith nodded. “Thanks. And let me know if you want it back the way it was. I know a guy.”

Mr. Wels cleared his throat. “It’s actually. Well. It’s been quite nice. I’d forgotten what a fine machine she was when we first got her.”

“Okay. Well. See you around.”

He pushed out of the classroom and into the reception area to find it filled with the paladins and Coran. They were taking pictures with Salter and Salter’s dad, but broke into cheers when Keith emerged.

“What the f--” Keith cut himself off when he saw that Lance was recording for posterity. Probably live streaming. “Fun. What fun.”

“Congratulations!” Allura ran up to him and dumped two handfuls of glitter on his head. “Lance said it was tradition. I didn’t believe him, but it sounded like so much fun, I thought I’d give it a try.”

“Don’t worry. It’s made from seaweed so you’ll only have to suffer for about a day.” Pidge heaved another handful at his face.

Keith closed his eyes and tried not to breathe. “Thanks.”

“Good thing I’m not afraid of a little glitter,” Shiro said as he wrapped his arm around Keith’s waist and pulled him close. “Of course, it would be a little hypocritical since, well,” and then he upended his own stash of glitter. But he followed up with a kiss.

Keith shook his head a little to dislodge the glittering flakes, but not so much that he pushed Shiro away. “Anyone else?”

It turned out they all hand a handful, and Keith figured it was more than fair to tackle Lance to the ground and try and rub it into his clothes and skin since it was his idea in the first place. Eventually, they tired themselves out and helped each other off the floor. 

“So, what do you say to dinner?” Allura asked as she kept a safe distance from both of them. “Something celebratory!”

The collection of their smiling faces and the lingering glitter floating around them filled Keith was such a profound love for them all it hurt. His whole chest was too small to contain the emotion. How did people live like this? How did they function in such deep, abiding love?

He knew he’d been without a response for too long, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work. He couldn't speak or he’d start weeping and he didn’t think there was anything good to come from tear tracks on a glitter stained face. 

But Shiro was there, and Shiro understood. As Shiro had always understood him. “That sounds great. There’s the new place by Vrepit Sal, it’s supposed to be amazing. We’ll meet you there.”

Keith nodded, like it was his idea. Then he pointed to Salter and their dad. “You should come, too. And,” he turned toward the door. “I’ll grab Mr. Wels. Doesn’t seem right without everyone.”

He convinced Mr. Wels that he wanted him to come and then they divided themselves into cars and checked directions. The others drove out of the parking lot and Keith was alone with Shiro. The quiet of the ride was exactly what he needed. “Thanks.” It probably didn’t need to be said, Shiro understood him better than anyone, but sometimes it was nice to say it.

“I’m proud of you, you know.” Shiro reached across the space and took Keith’s hand. “Not just for this, even though I know it was hard. But for everything. You’re the best man I know.”

Keith brushed at his face and watch the slow descent of glitter fall from his fingers. “You too, you know? I wouldn't be here without you.”

“Same. We saved each other together. Can’t think of a better ending to all of this.”

Keith squeezed Shiro’s hand and leaned back in his seat. The sun was low on the horizon, filling the sky with dark reds and glowing orange. It was hot, still, out in the desert, but the car was cool and for one long, sustained moment, it was perfect.


End file.
